When Marie Antoinette desired to possess a maison de plaisance of which she should be sole mistress, the King, always eager to satisfy her whims, bade her accept for her own use both the Grand and the Petit Trianon.  Said he, graciously, “These charming houses have always been the repair of favorites of the reigning king—­consequently they should now be yours.”  The Queen was much pleased with the gift and with her husband’s gallantry.  She responded, laughingly, that she would accept the Little Trianon on condition that he would not come there except when invited!

During the tenancy of Marie Antoinette, some of the rooms of the Petit Trianon were altered according to the elaborate style that received the name of Louis XVI.  Sculptures, wood-work, gilded chimneys, staircases, were fashioned by the hands of master artists.  No sooner was she possessor of her new domain than the Queen desired a garden after the pastoral English style that was then coming in favor.  A lake, a stream with ornamental bridges, clusters of trees, supplanted the symmetrical design of a botanical garden that had been much admired.  A gallant attached to the Court wrote an Elegie in praise of the Petit Trianon, its flowers, tulip trees and fragrant walks.  At one end of the lake a hamlet was created, with a picture-mill and a dairy, fitted with marble tables and cream jugs of rare porcelain.  There was also a farm where the Queen pastured a splendid herd of Swiss cattle.  Among these bucolic surroundings the King of France, forgetful of his people and their growing anguish, played shepherd to his shepherdess Queen.  In the Temple of Love they basked on summer days among rosy vines, while the music of Court players wafted through the trees from a nearby pavilion.  Every Sunday during the summer season there was a ball in the park, where any one might dance whose clothes and behavior were respectable.  The Queen, sensing the need to propitiate a disgruntled populace, shared in the afternoon’s revelries, petted the children that flocked about her knees, chatted with their nurses and parents.  Often, Marie Antoinette resided for weeks at a time at her favorite dwelling, fishing in the lake, tending her herd, picking berries in her garden patch.  The King and the princes came every day for supper, and were received by a Queen dressed in white with a fichu of net—­sometimes in a “rumpled gown of cotton.”  A score of favorites composed the Court of the Little Trianon.  All others were excluded.  Heavy silks and towering head-dresses were forgotten in the simple life of the Petit Trianon.  Tiresome etiquette was banished, together with thoughts of international matters of portent and impending calamity.  Occasionally, comedies were given, or groves and canal were illuminated in honor of a visitor of high degree—­the Emperor Joseph of Austria (brother of the Queen), the King of Sweden, ambassadors, princes, archduchesses.

Surrounded by the persons and the objects she most loved—­free to go and come unattended by a train of attendants—­those were the least unhappy days in the life of Marie Antoinette at Versailles.